The Traveler
by Swedishgoat
Summary: King and Django come across Mona, a strong-willed woman who gives them shelter during their partnership in the winter. King is captivated by this fellow European, but neither of them are perfect. A western tale of how scary commitment can be to some, and how adventure is a constant need for others. Schultz /OC. Rating will possibly change in the future.
1. The Mystery Rider

Dr. King Schultz stopped knocking on the door.

"I'm afraid there seems to be no one home".

Him and Django Freeman, now his partner for the winter, have been riding without stopping for the past five days in order to reach the town of Helen. Following the tracks of Jack Finn, a bank robber, they were now quite positive that the fugitive was hiding out in the mining town. However, as they were getting closer to the mountain known as Brasstown Bald, the dark clouds were making it clear to them that they would need to stop before the snow storm started.

"Shame" King said "We really need shelter."

"Perhaps there'll be another house on the way" said Django as King got on his horse. The Doctor shrugged pessimistically, and they were back on the road.

* * *

An hour later it started snowing. While for now the dance of the tiny snowflakes was entertaining, they both knew that the weather was only bound to get worse.

"Someone coming this way" Django said calmly and put his hand on the gun resting on his holster. Nowhere around the South did white folk seem alright with a black man riding on a horse, and Georgia was no different. He was always in alert, ready to shoot the face off of any cracker who thought otherwise.

They were still on the move, getting closer to the person coming towards them. Snow was obstructing their view, making it difficult for them to figure out the mysterious rider. All they could spot was a dark silhouette, under a heavy coat and a hat.

Ten minutes of riding and now the rider was close to them.

"Good afternoon good gentleman" King yelled out, trying to make his voice be heard through the snow that was now picking up speed. The horse stopped twenty feet away from them. Both King and Django were a little dumbfounded, as the "gentleman" lowered his scarf and a woman's face was revealed.

"Oh...I apologize madam I couldn't quite make out who it was in the snowfall. Nonetheless I bid you a good afternoon" repeated King.

The woman nodded. She didn't smile, nor said anything. Her face seemed stern, not angry, but definitely a face that wouldn't take any crap from anyone. It wasn't lost to King that she was also holding shotgun in her lap.

"We were wondering if you would be the owner of that nice little house we passed down the road?"

"I need a second shotgun" she said matter-of-factly.

King paused and stared at her in confusion. She was staring back, no expression on her face. "I ... am sure you do but I am not sure if I understand the correlation. Could you explain what you may mean madam?"

"You need shelter before the storm gets worse, and I need a shotgun."

King allowed himself to observe that this woman did not sound like a Southerner; in fact, her English didn't have any accent at all. She also did not look very American. Dark hair, dark eyes and a strong jaw; not the characteristics of the British-like heritage that seemed to dominate the country. The idea of having found another person possibly coming from the continental Europe suddenly excited him.

"We can give you your shotgun" Django replied before King could.

"Deal" the woman said and reached back for her scarf to cover her face. She seemed like she didn't give any of this that much importance, in fact she seemed a little bored. She stopped for a second and gazed at the two men.

"I will not hesitate to put a hole in your skulls if you try to do something funny".

"That's only fair" King replied as he chuckled. To his surprise this earned him a half smile from the woman.

"And you don't mind me staying in your house?" asked Django, interrupting their moment of humour.

The woman turned up to him and frowned. She was looking at him with a puzzled face, squinting her eyes and trying to understand. "Oh" then she said "Because you are black?". She looked at him as if he had asked the most absurd question possible.

Django nodded. Did this woman actually forget that he was black for a second?

"Not if you don't care staying at a white person's house" she said and another half smile flashed across her face for a moment.

"The name is Mona... and you two can take the extra room" she said abruptly.

Before neither of them could answer she pulled her scarf back on, and she was on the move again.


	2. The Constellation

Mona got off of her horse, grabbed the four dead rabbits dangling from the side of her saddle and unlocked the door. King and Django followed her silently. She threw the rabbits on the round kitchen table rather carelessly and started to pile logs into the fireplace.

King and Django took this time to observe the house they have entered. As they removed their coats, they saw that every furniture, and little object seemed old and simple. No sort of decoration anywhere.

"Once again we thank you for giving us shelter in your lovely home".

With this Mona struck a match, started the fire and rose again.

"It'd be nice if we had some coffee to warm us up…" she said more to herself than the men standing in the middle of the room. She went to a cupboard, pulled out a bottle with no marking on it, removed the cork and smelled whatever is inside it. She turned to King and Django;

"…but mysterious liquor is what we'll have" she said with the grin of mischievous child.

She placed three glasses and the bottle on the table. "Sit please". As the men were sitting down she removed her coat and her hat. She was athletically built, and now that her hat was off, two thick, long and dark braids were revealed.

She sat down and poured drink to all three glasses. "Now it is time for you to introduce yourselves".

"Ah, well of course…. I am Doctor King Schultz, and this" he gestured towards Django "is my partner Django Freeman".

"And what is it that you do?"

King hesitated for a second. Was it wise to tell this woman the true nature of their occupation?

"Bounty hunters" Django replied without any reluctance. He did not have any wariness towards this woman; in fact he rather enjoyed her blatant honesty towards everything.

"You have no problem with shooting so many people?" Mona asked.

"You ask this question yet you want another shotgun to carry around" King replied, causing her to do her half-smile again.

"And what is it that you do Miss Mona?"

"I am a nurse".

King chuckled "A nurse that shoots first, then proceeds to heal perhaps?". As soon as he said the words he regretted them; he did not want to offend the person who offered them shelter.

On the contrary Mona was rather amused. "I know… I am a walking oxymoron".

Django didn't know what that word meant, but he was actually more interested in the way his friend was flirting with this woman.

"Miss Mona –", she interrupted him, "Just Mona". "Very well Mona, I have a good ear for accents and I'm afraid I am failing myself as to distinguishing your background."

However the woman was now looking around, distracted by something else. She located the box of matches she left by the fireplace and got up to get them. "Yes, yes I will tell you my story. But first- I am famished" she said as she sat back down and took three matches out the box. She broke the end piece of one of them, put her hand behind her, and bringing back her fist that held the heads of the matches out.

"Shortest match cooks tonight". She looked up to meet Django's confused face.

"You didn't expect from to cook for you did you?".

"Well-".

"I am a nurse, not a maid" Mona replied with a grin. "Now pick your pick".

Django reached and without hesitation pulled the match to the left side. A whole match. He smiled with relief. Now it was King's turn. His hand hovered on top of hers; then he picked the one on the right.

"Short match!" Mona exclaimed in victory. "Scheisse" King replied in a bit of frustration. He wanted to stay at the table and listen to her talk.

"The knife is in that drawer, and there are some vegetables over in that box" she pointed around "A stew would be great". She was smiling at King with mock innocence.

"But how about your story?" Django asked, causing her to turn her gaze away from King, who in return got even more annoyed.

"Yes my story" she said as she poured more liquor into empty glasses. She took a bag of tobacco and started rolling a cigarette. "My story starts in the Spanish city of Barcelona". Now King was back at the table, he sat down to skin the rabbits, meanwhile eagerly listening to Mona.

"The year was 1828, my father Jose-Luis Calvo had just turned nineteen and he was becoming more and more tired with living under what he had called 'the oppression of the catholic church'. Having read all the great books and novels on the French way of freedom, he sat out for a journey to Paris. Here he found what he was looking for. Paris was filled with art, and artists who knew how to live, and my guess is beautiful women -" she lit up her cigarette and took a puff "- he was having the time of his life. One day, I believe a month after he first got to Paris, his jacket rips at the seam, so he stops by at a tailor shop in Montparnasse". She smiled to herself. "To this day he swears that he heard angels sing to him the first time he saw my mother, working as a seamstress. Another month goes by and him and my mother, Veronique, get married at a chapel. However now, all the money he had saved up prior to his trip is spent and they are forced to go back to Spain. Upon their arrival, my father starts working as a server. One day, as he is cleaning up after closing time, father finds a large leather bag forgotten under a chair. Alongside very official looking documents is a good sum of money- enough to last my parents for a year. However, my father is an honest man. He sets out to find the man the bag belongs to, and delivers it to a highly ranked Spanish diplomat. The diplomat, who later serves as an ambassador, admires my father's honesty and offers him the position of being his secretary. So from then on till a few years ago when the ambassador passed away, my parents work for him, moving across the continent of Europe every time he is to go somewhere".

Mona finished her drink and put out her cigarette. King, after putting the pot that contained the stew on the fire, had now returned to the table.

"On February 4th 1832, when the ambassador is situated in London, my mother gives birth to me. They choose to give me an English name so I am called Mona. But they want me to have a Spanish name as well, so I am Mona Agatha. My mother doesn't want her nationality excluded, so I am Mona Agatha Claudette. From the time I was born in London until I am eighteen we live in these cities respectively: Stockholm, St. Petersburg, Warsaw and Amsterdam. On my eighteenth birthday I announce to everyone that I am tired of following this old man around the world and that I wish to go to Paris to become a nurse. My mother is hysterical, but my father understands me as he once felt the same way. He gives me a gun, my first gun, and a bit of money and sends me out on my journey."

The stew smelled great and was ready now. "I'll plate us up" Mona said as she attempted to get up.

"Allow me" King pleaded. "Your story is far too captivating. Please continue".

Mona nodded "So I set out to Paris. However, I got distracted by Hamburg in the way so I stopped there for a couple of months" she said and turned to look at the Doctor.

King's eyes were intense to her now, perhaps thinking about his time in another German town.

"Then someone I met there told me that they had a friend in Vienna and we must visit the city. So I went there and stayed for a few months. But my father's fate followed me and I was close to running out of money so I went to Paris to become a nurse. And I did. But then a fellow nurse friend of mine told me that she was going to visit her dying aunt in Prague and I went along with her and stayed. And now I was a nurse and I was supporting myself. I traveled by myself around the continent, making money as a nurse, and leaving whenever I felt like it."

She took a spoonful of the stew to her mouth, chewed and nodded in approval. "This is really good. Anyway I was back in Paris when my parents have sent me a letter. They were in London again but now the good ambassador had passed away and they were thinking about going across the ocean and move to Canada, they were asking me to join them. By this time I hadn't seen my parents in four years, and another continent sounded like a great adventure. This is how I came to North America. I traveled a bit in Canada, and then I moved down to America. I stopped by at most major cities, living in them for a couple of months then to move again. I was in Lexington, about six months ago when the daughter of the man who used to live in this house hired me to take care of him. He was really old, but stubborn, did not want to go up to Lexington where all his daughters was married, and he was sick. So I took care of him until he passed away a week ago… So you see this isn't my home. I have sent for the oldest daughter and her husband so they can come and sell the house, and when they arrive I will leave."

"And where will you be going?" King asked.

"Haven't really decided yet… but probably down south. I miss speaking Spanish".

They had now finished their dinner. "This is quite the story…and you are quite the traveler" King said, gazing up at her, which to her felt as if he was trying to read her.

"That I am" she lit up another cigarette. "Now tell me the story in which you two became partners" she said.

And she poured more drinks.

* * *

"You did not lift up… a … a midget!". Django was trying to speak but he couldn't stop laughing, and neither did his companions.

"I most definitely did" Mona exclaimed in laughter " and he was really heavy".

Another wave of laughter hit them. "You are remarkable person" King said in between laughs.

"I was at a drinking hall in Paris, I met a midget, I started drinking and talking with him, then he said he needed to find his brother who was also there. But it was really crowded so I asked 'Would you like me to lift you up so you can see better?'"

The men burst into laughter again. Tears were running down Django's eyes.

"He said yes and I did. I asked 'What does he look like' and he said 'Dark hair, blue eyes: just like me'. So I am standing in the middle of the most crowded drinking hall, with a small man in my hands and a cigarette in my mouth, and he is getting heavier by the second and I am trying to find the second midget in there. Then I see a man walk up towards me, I don't know what he wants, then he says 'Why are you doing that to my brother?'. Turns out when he said 'just like me' he didn't mean another midget" she said as she laughed again.

They laughed a bit more and a content silence set in the room.

Mona got up and stretched out her arms as she yawned. "I need sleep. If you are leaving early in the morning leave the shotgun on the table".

"We will" King said sheepishly. After finishing the entire bottle that they guessed to be whisky, they were all a little buzzed.

As Mona went into her room, Django went to the outhouse and King went to the other room. Him and Django would have to share a bed, but it wasn't a problem for neither one of them. After sleeping on the cold ground for five days, a bed was going to be heaven no matter who slept next to you.

But King's mind drifted to who he would rather sleep next to. Born in 1832; she was twenty-seven? He wondered why she wasn't married. She seemed a bit crude but she was definitely attractive. A French-Spanish woman in the middle of Georgia, he couldn't believe it. He thought about the freckles that adorned her neck. He wondered if they continued down her breasts. _Beauty spots _the French called it. "Grain de Beauté "he said out loud to himself.

"You said something?" Django asked with a grin, now back in the room.

"Of course not" the Doctor said "Nothing". He got in the bed and closed his eyes. It had to be nothing. It was absolutely silly for him to think such things. She was a young girl and he was… well, old. He shifted and turned around restlessly. He needed to get these thoughts out of his head. His job was already dangerous; a woman like that only meant more danger. He slowly drifted into sleep.

In his dream he would discover a constellation in the sky, made out of the freckles on Mona's body.

* * *

**I am so flattered by the wonderful reviews and alerts I have received, thank you all for that. **

**I want to point out that my usage of the word ****_midget _****in this chapter is completely in the name of historical accuracy. I don't think in mid 19****th**** century people used the term ****_little person_****, but again I wish everyone to know that I don't mean to offend anyone. If you still think I am an a**hole for it, I definitely get that as well.**

**Either way, I hope you've enjoyed this second chapter (and I thank HalcyonBird and Unnamedsomeone for their French assistance).**


	3. The Selfish One

**That's right: It's two-chapter update! Enjoy**

* * *

Jack Finn's corpse was lying out on the Marshall's front porch. King counted the money and gave Django his share. It looked like spring had finally made its appearance after the snowstorm of the last week. He knew that Django was restless now, wondering when they would go to Mississippi to find Broomhilda.

"I believe it is time for us to find out the whereabouts of your wife." King said as Django nodded. "We'll go straight to Mississippi. No need for a detour."

Django looked up and was about to ask him why they would even think of a detour, only to realize he must've pondering about Mona again. Doctor never seemed like a man that shares his private affairs with the others. He never told Django much about himself; but after leaving Mona's house that morning he got suspiciously quiet. Later in the week when he talked, he made comments about the French, or the Spanish; or telling him stories of travels from his old continent. It was clear to Django that his mind was occupied with Mona, or at least her story. He thought about this for a second. If they were to stop by at Mona's once again, a couple of days wouldn't have made a big difference in his quest.

"We could go to Miss Mona's again... It would be nice to have a bed for the night" Django said. King turned to him and stared for a second "If you insist" he said as he shrugged and got on his horse".

"Yeah right,_ I _insist " Django thought and smiled under his breath.

* * *

A stern faced woman with a Southern drawl answered the door. "What can I do for you?"

King removed his hat as he addressed her. "Good day Madam, my name is Doctor King Schultz and I am looking for Miss Mona. She gave us shelter here during the snow storm last week."

"She is gone", the woman said coldly.

"I see" King was clearly disappointed.

"She left this morning" the woman had now noticed Django in the background.

King squeezed the hat in his hand with desperate hope "Do you have any idea Madam, of where she might be going?"

The woman looked back to the Doctor "She mumbled something about Mexico- Is that a nigger on the horse?" she asked abruptly.

But King already had the information he needed "Thank you Madam and good day".

"We can catch up to her in a few hours" he said as he quickly climbed back on his horse.

* * *

As the sun was slowly setting, and Mona was getting ready to find a spot to rest for the night, she heard a noise behind her. She turned to see two horsed men in the distance, approaching her in haste. She stopped and grabbed her shotgun.

Mona had shot men before. And killed them. Two, to be precise. Both men on different occasions had tried to rape her and she didn't give pulling the trigger a second thought. She convinced herself that her murders were justified, but she never made peace with the fact that she took people's lives. She knew that if someone were to threaten her again she wouldn't hesitate to kill them, but still, the idea bothered her.

She tried to get rid of these thoughts in her head. Right now the men were closing the gap in between and she needed to be on alert. She still couldn't make out there faces but... she realized one of the riders were black. She laughed in nervous relief. There couldn't have been many black men riding around in Georgia right now; she lowered her gun.

"Good afternoon Miss Mona" King exclaimed as they stopped near her.

Mona smiled "Just Mona".

"Well, good afternoon _just _Mona" King repeated with a smile.

The transformation was incredible to Django. The man that frowned and sat in silence all week was now all smiles.

"Why are you two here?"

"We're going to Mississippi. We heard you are going to Mexico."

"Yes, Guadalupe or… maybe Monterrey … Who knows" she said as she shrugged.

"You will have to pass through Mississippi to get there; perhaps you would like to travel with us?" King asked, hoping his anticipation wasn't as apparent to her than it was to him.

"Alright" Mona shrugged once more and softly kicked her horse with her heels to start moving again.

"Do you make every decision as fast as this?" asked Django as they followed suit.

"Well" she lit up a cigarette "I have a rule of not turning down travel offers... Of course I don't say yes to every strange-looking person that asks me to go somewhere with them, but still, I think it works for someone like me. Besides this hardly is a life-changing decision".

"Is this why you have traveled so much? Because you choose not to say no to fellow travelers?", this time it was King who asked the question.

"Not really. I travel irregardless". Mona hated trying to explain herself. People usually struggled with understanding her reasoning and experiences, and most did not approve of them to start with. It always seemed to her that they almost took offense in the way she chose her own destiny. But she continued. "I think it has to do with, maybe curiosity. There is just so much to see. And even if I hate what I am seeing, I still want to see it... I sometimes stop at a city or town and I think that I can maybe just stay there and, well, settle down. But after a few weeks I find wherever I am to be umm" she stopped talking to find the word she was looking for "- finished… Somewhere along the way, I don't know how, but places have become consumable things for me. I consume...finish them and when they are done I move on."

Both men were quite when she had finished talking. Django was silent because he _did_ want to settle down: With Broomhilda. He stayed up all night sometimes, thinking about a home they could call their own in the North. That dream was so far away, yet so realizable it filled him with anxiety.

King was silent because he was frustrated. He was frustrated because this woman was constantly honest, answering every question you asked her, yet it felt like there was something she was constantly hiding. King was frustrated because this explanation was not enough. He was a master of convincing people, and he desperately wanted to convince her to tell him the secrets of her soul.

"I don't know, I don't think it makes sense to anyone else but me... I think we can stop here for the night", she said quietly. She was obviously taken aback by the lack of reaction she got from the men.

They got off their horses and started unpacking their supplies when Django said Mona's name and he stood right behind her.

She turned around to find Django holding three straws sticking out of his fist. "Short straw cooks tonight" he said with an evil grin.

Mona laughed at this wholeheartedly and reached for a straw. Her smile quickly turned sour. "Damn it - the short straw!"

* * *

They rode together day after day, stopping at the driest spot they could find for the night. Mona observed that the partners avoided going into, or staying at towns. When they did stop at a town, for supplies or the possibility of a decent bed, Mona watched the people doing their best to keep Django from simply being treated as an equal. She also observed King's undeniable gift in reconciliation. He was supreme at easing these people down, and persuading them to do what he wanted, with usually the help of money- which he seemed to have an endless amount of.

During this journey, they talked about a lot. Mona answered their questions about her travels, and told them about all the interesting people and stories she came across. She told them about her parents, her little brother who died from polio at the age of three, and how his father's broad-minded upbringing made her who she was. King listened to these stories with mixed feelings. On the one hand he felt every story told was a step towards knowing her better, and on the other, he felt as if he was only scratching a surface. In return King and Django told her backstories of all the criminals they have "captured".

In general she was kind while still being a little crude King observed, but also at times, quite selfish. Perhaps this was due to the fact that she had to be self-reliant for so many years, but he had realized that she was quite devoted to her own wellbeing. The things she didn't care about, with these she was eager to be compliant, on the contrary if she opposed a certain thing- then she was quite difficult to deal with.

For instance, mornings at first were a struggle for the three travelers. While Django and King were used to rising early to start their day, Mona apparently liked sleeping in. When they would try to wake her up she would mumble something in French or Spanish and go back to sleep. After they have made her wake up with difficulty, she would be quite grumpy for a couple of hours, and argue why rising early wasn't that important, and that they should also sleep a bit more. On the fourth morning with the same interaction, King without thinking said "I will make you a morning coffee if you wake up right now". With this she opened her eyes, sat up, stared at King and said: "I'm waiting". While Django burst into laughter with how this woman turned the Doctor into a server in a matter of seconds, King actually felt as if he had triumphed: Now he knew that she did things she didn't want to, if she was bribed with something she would want.

As to his own desire in observing her, he told himself that she was just a person with an interesting history. He tried to make himself believe that he was just curious about the past of the woman, and not the woman herself. He wasn't sure however, if he was doing a good job convincing himself.


	4. The Plan

They were past Jackson, and as far as Mona knew, the time was coming near for her to part from her companions. She didn't know where exactly they were going or what they were doing there. She wondered why she never pondered upon that before.

"So are you two looking for a fugitive?" she queried.

"Not really" was all King said coldly. He wasn't sure what to tell her since this was not his story to tell.

"We are looking for my wife" Django said quietly to his surprise. "We are going to Natchez."

Mona raised her eyebrows in surprise "I didn't know you were married. Is that where she lives?"

"That's where she was sold."

Mona opened her mouth in terror and quickly closed it again. It was clear to King that the young woman did not know what Natchez was famous for.

"Natchez is one of the biggest slave markets in the country. We are here to find who bought her in the records" he explained.

All she did was nod, but inside she was panicking. She wanted to flee. Leave this god-awful country and its awful people behind, pretend as if she never saw or heard the things she did. And she definitely did not want to see that slave market. Unfortunately for her, she was running low on supplies.

"I will accompany you into the town since I need supplies, then make my leave. I hope you find her", she said trying to sound as calm as possible.

"You are leaving?" King asked in disbelief. He knew she wanted to go to Mexico but this wasn't mentioned ever again after they caught up to her on that first day. King thought, or maybe hoped, that she would stay with them.

Django saw the expression on his friend's face. He didn't know if it was visible to her, but he could clearly see that the Doctor was hurt.

"I thought you never said no to a travel offer?" he asked her.

"Yes. You two asked me to ride with you to Mississippi and I did."

"And now I am asking you to accompany us to Natchez and wherever else to find my wife" Django replied.

Mona furrowed her brows in confusion and asked "But why?" King was also confused with his obvious attempt to keep her around.

"Because you entertain me", Django said as he smirked.

Mona smiled. "Natchez is on the way but what if your wife is way back in Georgia or something? I'm sorry but I don't know why I would do that kind of a journey."

Completely loyal to her self-interest. King saw his window of opportunity with her statement.

"But what if I were to offer you something very valuable?" King asked.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity "What is that?"

"A solid reference from a respectable doctor would make a lot of difference in your wage now wouldn't it?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. He knew he had her hooked now.

Her brows were furrowed once more "But again: Why?"

"Because you entertain my partner, and a happy business partner means a good business", he said- he would have to thank his friend later. "Now do we have a deal?"

Mona pursed her lips and looked ahead.

"Let's go then".

* * *

Django and King were going through records and Mona was silently staring out the window. Before coming to America, and especially the South, she had heard horror stories about slavery. She always believed, or maybe wanted to believe that these stories were rare cases and the reality wouldn't be that bad. Oh, how naïve she was! Now she was looking out the window, watching naked bodies with open scars, bent backs and scared eyes.

She sat back in her chair and puffed on her cigarette. Maybe trying to find this Broomhilda would help her spirits a little. She had seen so many horrible things in this country and failed to do anything about it, that she started feeling constantly guilty. Maybe helping even one person would change that.

"And that's where we will go" King was saying in the background. "Mona?"

"Hm?" she looked up and met King's eyes.

"We will be going to Candyland".

"Oh?" She sat up in her chair, eyes full of excitement like a little child. That sounded nice.

"It's a plantation", Django said. "One of the worst ones".

"Oh" she replied as she sunk back in her chair.

"We will act as if I am interested in Mandingo fights and approach Candie to buy one of his fighters. As he agrees to our ridiculous offer and invites us to his plantation, we will get Broomhilda out" King laid out the plan.

"Alright. What's a modingo fight?"

"Mondingo fights" King corrected her "are bare-handed ancient-Roman style fights to death between slaves that are ordered by their owners".

Mona gulped and looked away. She wondered whether this was her kind of an adventure. Would she have to watch something like that? No, surely King and Django wouldn't allow for such a thing to happen.

"So you are a rich man who likes watching slaves kill each other… And you are?" she turned to Django.

"I'll be his consultant as to which slave to acquire".

"And what would I be?"

King and Django gazed at each other. "You can be the Doctor's wife" Django replied as he grinned like a cat.

Mona gave a half smile to this. "So you will be a psychopath", she said to King, "You will be someone who enslaves his own kind" she continued, "And I will be a meritless wife… Sounds like we'll all be playing what we exactly wouldn't want to be".

King pondered upon this statement for a second, but moved along. "Now Calvin Candie owns the Cleopatra Club and that's where we will approach him with our offer" King said as he watched Mona flicker her cigarette, completely lost in thought. "And you will have to dress the part".

She nodded sheepishly, only to realize what he meant "Hold on, do I have to wear a dress?" Indeed this was different to her. Since the day Django and King met her, they saw her only wearing pants. It usually got her funny looks and bad remarks out in the public, but no one seemed to care now since they were focused on Django.

"Yes you will have to wear a dress" King replied as he smirked "And act like a grown up".

"Ugh" Mona grumbled, "This is getting worse and worse".

* * *

"No, nothing with flowers on it" Mona exclaimed. The shopkeeper sighed and picked up another dress as Django and King gave each other amused looks.

"No, no little bows either".

The woman rolled her eyes and went to find another one. Before they stepped in the shop King told Mona that he'd be covering all the expenses. This made her uncomfortable but she remained silent; this was their plan after all. Now King was sitting on a chair, eyeing every little move of the woman, and quite frankly taking quite the pleasure in her annoyance.

"No! Nothing in pink!" Mona exclaimed.

"Little Miss" the old lady said turning red in anger "You are being very, very difficult right now".

Mona hunched in defeat "Alright, fine. Just give me the dresses that doesn't require me to wear a corset".

The shopkeeper frowned in confusion. "All of these dresses need to be worn with a corset underneath".

Mona suddenly turned to Django and King "I can't do this, I am going to Mexico".

"You never wore a corset before?" Django asked in disbelief.

The woman looked embarrassed and angry at the same time "I wore it once" she said with a lower voice than she meant it to be.

"Now, now" King jumped in the conversation "You are a remarkably strong woman, I am sure you can handle one little corset" he said with mock support. Mona squinted her eyes and gave him the death stare. He chuckled in delight.

"Fine" she turned to the shopkeeper. "Just give me your most comfortable corset".

"Oh child" the woman replied "There is no such thing as a comfortable corset".

Mona bit the insides of her lip nervously. King watched and loved every moment of it.

* * *

**In the movie, I believe, the exact location of the slave market is never mentioned. My research on it suggests Natchez, but if you have another idea- let me know.**

**Once again thank you for all the amazing reviews and follows.**

**I hope you've enjoyed these two chapters.**


	5. The Un-Mute Wife

**Apparently I can only do two-chapter updates now. Enjoy!**

* * *

King had just put his pocket watch were it belonged when he saw Mona emerge from the inn they were staying at. She was wearing an emerald green dress that hugged her waist and revealed parts of her skin that King sometimes imagined at night. To his delightful surprise, those freckles _did _continue down her neck. As Mona approached the carriage he rented for the night, he tried to pull himself together. It would have been a lot easier if Django wasn't smiling and staring at the Doctor as he did right now.

"You are late" King addressed Mona coldly. He desperately needed to redirect this new-found agitation inside him somewhere else.

"Well I am not German" snapped Mona. "Not every one of us live every minute of our lives according to schedule".

King nodded quietly and offered his hand to help her get in the carriage. It wasn't lost to her that the Doctor was taken aback by her reaction. Once the car started moving Mona felt gravely guilty for her behavior.

"I finally understand why my mother was always in a bad mood: The poor woman couldn't breathe right!" she joked, hoping that it would deliver her hidden message of apology.

"That's very understandable", King said as he smiled. "Besides it must be rather strange for you to not have a pistol on you".

"Oh that's alright. I still have one on me" Mona replied.

"Is that so? And where would you carry a pistol in a dress like th-". He paused and looked at Mona giving him a wicked smile as an answer.

"Ah- I see" he said as he turned to look out the carriage. Rest of the ride he tried to stop himself from thinking of the whereabouts of that pistol.

* * *

"Monsiour Candie is upstairs" the lawyer said as they were slowly ascending. "He is busy watching the fight but he has agreed to receive you".

Mona stopped dead in her track, causing Django to bump in to her in the stairs. She quickly regained her composure and kept walking, but inside she was filled with terror. With every passing second she now realized, she was coming closer to watching people fight to death.

"And please, do not address him _Mister_ Candie, but Monsieur Candie".

"De quelle origine est Monsieur Candie" she asked trying to distract herself. This got her a funny look from King- "Oh right, I am supposed to be the mute-like wife" she said to herself.

"Oh no, Monsieur Candie doesn't speak French so please refrain from it. He just enjoys the culture" the lawyer replied as he opened the doors to where they would meet this infamous Calvin Candie.

Mona observed the rectangular room with a bar on the one end, and a fireplace on the other. There were two black man throwing punches and wrestling rather viciously in front of the fireplace. Another set of two men were watching the fight. One sitting down giving commands to his fighter, the other standing up and smoking.

The man standing up addressed them without turning around : "Why are you interested in Mandingo fights"?

"If I have to be frank- because I am awfully bored" King replied.

The man in the maroon suit turned around with a smile and stopped for a second when he caught a glimpse of the woman in the green dress. King noticed his interest begrudgingly. "I am Doctor King Schultz, and this is Mona Agatha Claudette- my wife".

The man that Mona now knew to be Calvin Candie walked towards her. She reluctantly gave him her hand; there was something odd about this man. He raised her hand and planted a soft kiss on it, which made Mona shiver in distaste inside.

"Never have I met such unique beauty" Candie said staring intensely at her.

"Apparently Miss Mona is half French" the lawyer informed him.

"Ah, how wonderful. I am a collector of all that is French" he replied, he was still holding her hand in his.

Mona thought what a proper lady would say in a situation like this. A "thank you"? The man made such an odd statement, and she was so distressed by the fighting and the uncomfortableness of the situation that she couldn't think of a single thing a mute wife would do. "The hell with it, I'll play a my kind of a wife" she thought.

She removed her hand from his rather abruptly and answered with a sick smile. "Sadly I belong to somebody else's collection" she said as she pointed over at King with her eyes.

Candie chuckled and turned to King "Where did you find this one"? Before King could answer however, he placed a hand behind the Doctor's back and guided him towards the fight. With this, both Django and Mona turned towards the bar.

"Miss Mona won't you join us to watch the fight" Candie asked suddenly.

"No thank you".

"Don't approve of you husband's interests"? There was a rather malicious tone to his voice.

"His interests are for no one to judge" Mona replied. But she needed to come up with an excuse as to why she wouldn't watch the fight. " I myself, can't bear violence; woman are frail by their nature after all" she joked ironically.

"Of course " Candie said as he turned back to the fight. Mona was a bit appalled. Did this man just take that remark seriously?

"What can I get you ma'am" the bartender distracted her from her thoughts.

"Whisky on ice".

Django was standing on the other side of the bar, sipping on his drink. According to the plan they were not supposed to be friendly to each other like they usually were. Mona stared down at her drink and tried to disregard all the horrible fighting noises coming from behind her. She had seen many fights of course, but one where the fighters were forced into... She shivered in terror. She had to think about something else. She gazed down at the marriage band King gave her to wear as a part of her "disguise". He also gave her an assortment of other jeweleries to be worn during their portrayal of the married couple. They all seemed very expensive. Just how rich was this guy?

She heard a loud crack behind her- a crack from some one's body. A moan full of pain followed. She finished her drink in one gulp and quietly excused herself out of the room. With rushed steps she went downstairs and out to the back garden. She desperately gasped for air- this damn corset! To her luck, no one was out on the garden. Probably all patrons were occupied with the" entertainment" offered by the club.

She sat down on a bench and lit up a cigarette. There was a fight upstairs where an innocent man was being killed right now. And she was just sitting there. She shook her head in guilt. At one point soon, she would have to stop saying yes to every adventure that came along. Clearly not all of them were fun and giggles. "I should be less impulsive" she said to herself. Less impulsive and more like... well, King. Mona pondered upon this for a second. Indeed the man was almost her opposite. Every move he did and every word that left his mouth seemed well planned and well thought of. Nonetheless Mona never felt that he was ever disingenuous, but he was certainly a man who kept it to himself. Yes he was genuine but always in control. He probably never let thoughts and feelings deep inside to reach the surface. She wondered what he was like when he let it all go.

She reached her hand down the back of her dress and scratched mercilessly. This damn corset was not only obstructing her from breathing right, but it was also digging into her skin. Indeed corset-wearing was an education that had to start at a young age. If not, one would suffer as Mona did right now. She put out her cigarette, took a deep breath in -which was very painful to do- and went back inside.

She had just stepped in the room when King grabbed her hand and announced "Darling you are just back in time". To her surprise the physical contact made her heart race a bit. "Monsiour Candie graciously agreed to consider my offer and invited us over this house".

"And I will be very, very upset If I don't get to see your beautiful wife with us tomorrow" Candie addressed King but gazed at Mona.

* * *

Ten minutes later, after goodbyes were bid and the Cleopatra Club was left behind, the three figures were sitting silently in the carriage.

"We all stood there and let it happen" she said as she stared down her hands. If she were to look up she would see that guilt and hopelessness could be read from both men's faces.

Django leaned forward to catch Mona's eyes "For Broomhilda" he said.

She turned to watch the town pass by and sighed. "For Broomhilda" she repeated quietly.

* * *

Next morning started with Mona trying to convince King and Django that she could ride on a horse with the dress she was wearing.

"I'm afraid I don't know how believable that would be. A doctor's wife riding around in the forest like a bandit" King asked concerned.

"Look, I've already opted out from being the mute wife last night and frankly, Candie loved it" Mona replied. This caused King to give her a cold stare. "Or at least he believed it" she continued. "I don't think it would be out of character for the woman I portrayed to be riding her own horse".

"It makes sense to me" Django stated. "I think it shows that the Doctor enjoys partnerships with strange folk: A black man as an advisor, and a harridan for a wife".

Mona chuckled and waited for King to respond.

"Fine, take your horse" he said. This Candie "loving" the harridan bit did not entertain him at all.

* * *

The three riders caught up to Candie's carriage and his companions midway to the plantation. At first Candie's men tried to give Django some trouble; but once one of the men was squirming in pain under a horse on the ground, it was apparent to all that he was not a man to mess with. To Mona's surprise Candie was rather impressed by Django. The carriage started to move again.

"Thank you for agreeing to ride in the carriage with us, although I must say Miss Mona it seems you are an expert in equestrianism " Candie said.

"Yes, in France women are not afraid to take on challenges-but I'm sure you already knew that" Mona replied, causing Candie to flash a disturbing kind of smile.

Soon the men were talking about Mandingo fights and Mona was not even attempting to look like she was listening. Her mind was drifting back to the fight of the last night and whether there were anything she could have done without compromising their facade. She didn't know the answer to that, but she promised herself she was not going to sit back and do nothing the next time.

"How did the two of you meet Miss Mona"? Candie's voice caught her off guard.

"We met in Richmond where Mona used to live with her parents." King replied, coming to her rescue. "I was there on business and between a few meetings I decided to take a little stroll and stop by at a tobacco store to pick up a new pipe. As I reached for the door Mona stepped out" King stopped and turned to look at Mona who was eagerly listening to him. Mona didn't know if this was all an act but King locked eyes into hers as he told the rest of the story. "I swear Monsieur Candie, I heard angels sing to me the moment I saw her face".

A warm smile captured Mona's face and she blushed instantly, causing King to return that genuine smile.

"That's one hell of a story". Candie's words brought them back to where they were and who they were with. "We are almost there now" he said but some commotion stopped him from continuing.

King and Mona turned to find a slave taking refuge on a tree from two vicious dogs held by some white men. "What seems to be the problem here" Candie asked the men as the car stopped.

"He tried to escape".

"Keep the dogs away" Candie said and thought for a second.

"I am quite disappointed D'artagnan" he addressed the man on the tree "Come down that tree now, the dogs are not going to hurt you. Now, why would you try to run away right after I paid good money for you to fight"?

"I'm sorry Sir.. I .. I just don't want to fight anymore" the black man replied in desperation and terror.

"You still owe me three fights D'artagnan. I'm afraid you are not leaving me much of a choice here" he said as he stepped off the carriage.

"Monsieur Candie why don't you let me buy him" King jumped in the conversation. Mona was surprised and glad he did.

Candie looked at him suspiciously. "And why would you want to buy a fighter who wouldn't want to fight"?

Before King could answer Mona did: "Because he knows scenes as this make me upset Monsieur Candie. Let us buy the slave".

Candie thought for a second. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that. You see, D'artagnan here needs to set an example for all his folk. They should know what will happen if they try to escape" he said cruelly. Mona realized he was about the signal for the dogs to be set up on the poor man who was shivering in fright.

"But surely you are not going to do such a thing in the presence of a lady" she said abruptly. Candie looked back at her with a confused expression. "Remember? Frail woman" she said as she pointed to herself and smiled sweetly.

Candie got back in the carriage and returned the smile. "Of course not." He turned to his men. "We'll deal with this later" he said as D'artagnan was taken away and the carriage started moving again. Mona didn't know if that helped at all. She hoped that D'artagnan would manage to run away again, this time with success, but she knew that the chances of that were slim to none.

"I heard you had a slave who speaks German" King queried, seemingly already forgotten the horrible scene they almost were to witness.

"Oh yes we do. Her name is.. umm... Hildi! That's right Hildi is her name".

"I would like to talk to this slave if you don't mind; it has been so long since I've heard any German".

"Of course, of course" Candie replied "And here we are".

* * *

**Did anyone get the reference when Schultz made up the story of meeting Mona?**


	6. The Coal Miner's Cough

It was two hours before dinner time and King was sitting on the armchair by the window, watching Mona sleep. When they got to the house, they watched Broomhilda being taken out from a sweat box. With the sight of this, he observed Mona turn pale and clench her fists. After they have been shown to their room, which they were going to share as any married couple would, she announced she needed a nap as she took of her shoes and laid down. It was apparent to King that she was rather shaken by the terrible things they have witnessed last night and today. He sat down and opened his book. Instead of reading he watched the woman toss and turn in her sleep, occasionally reaching around to scratch her back.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Doctor Schultz" called out Lara's voice out the door causing Mona to stir in her sleep.

"Good evening Doctor Schultz, I was wondering where you would want to talk to Hildi- the slave girl you asked for" Lara asked as King answered the door.

"Ah yes, yes of course. My wife is resting a little but I would want her to hear that _even _a slave can learn German" he acted. "Why don't you just bring her here"?

As the door was closed the adjacent door opened and Django stepped in. By this time Mona was awake, already looking sleepily at the two men.

"I think you should go back to your room, we don't want her to scream and pass out the moment she steps foot in here" he said quietly to Django. Right as he went back to his room, there was another knock on the door.

"Come in" King ordered.

The woman that they previously watched to be taken out the sweat box entered the room. She was cleaned and put in a pretty dress. Mona observed how beautiful and fragile she looked, and an incredible sense of happiness filled her heart. This was the woman her friend loved; and they were going to get her out, and everything that they had to go through was worth it.

Meanwhile King was conversing with Broomhilda in German. She looked scared and confused, listening to the words of the Doctor but also looking at the woman who was dangling her legs off the bed and swinging them like a child would.

_"This isn't really my wife" _King continued in German _"We are friends of a friend of yours and we want to help you"._

_"I don't have any friends" _the woman replied quietly and looked at Mona who was looking back at her. Mona had no idea what they were talking about so she just gave her a big smile and a wave- which in return made Broomhilda even more confused.

_"That's where you are wrong. You have a friend behind that door" _King pointed out.

_"Will you promise to not scream when you see this friend"?_

Broomhilda nodded.

_"No, say I promise"._

_"I promise"._

"You may come in" King called out silently. The door opened and Broomhilda's eyes widened.

"Hey there little trouble-maker" Django said with a smile. Mona had never seen him this happy.

Broomhilda however gasped for air and collapsed on the floor. King tried to reach for her but Mona jumped in and pushed his hand away. "I am a Doctor" King said coarsely. "You are a dentist, and I am an actual nurse" she replied cheekily and checked Broomhilda's pulse, then got her to drink a sip of water. When she came to her senses, Broomhilda took refuge in Django's arms and wept like an infant. King and Mona looked away and started walking towards the adjacent room.

"It's alright, please stay" Broomhilda raised her head and wiped away her tears. They listened to Django laying out the plan for her and promise that by tomorrow, they would be out of here.

The woman got up and regretfully said she needed to go get ready for the dinner service. She had made her way to the door, and the men were already discussing which fighter they should bid on, when Mona approached Broomhilda. "I have a favour to ask".

* * *

At the dinner table, once again the men were talking about Mandingo fights.

"...but your third best fighter. You will be practically forced to sell me your third best fighter if I make that ridiculous offer to you".

Mona wasn't listening. She was secretly observing Django and Broomhilda who were acting like little love fools and sneaking looks at each other. She fidgeted in discomfort.

"Twelve thousand dollars" King exclaimed in self confidence.

Candie banged on the dinner table with her hand, making most guests jerk in surprise. "I'll be damned! Now that _is _a ridiculous offer" he said smiling. He thought for a second, or pretended to. "Doctor Schultz, you got yourself a deal" he said as he raised his glass, and everyone followed.

"I'll call for my lawyer tomorrow once we go back to town, he can meet up with yours and do what lawyers do" King replied smugly.

Candie smiled and nodded. Mona thought he looked like a snake when he smiled.

"I must say Monsieur Candie, I am quite impressed by your Broomhilda".

"Who? Oh yes, yes Hildi...I would say you must have been taken by that brown beauty, but I'm sure once you are married to someone as beautiful as your wife you don't even notice the rest of them". The guests smiled at this and Lara continued:

"And I think Hildi is quite taken by our Django here. She can't take her eyes off of him". Once again everyone smiled.

Except Stephen. Mona watched his face fall as he started looking back and forth between the now obviously panicked Broomhilda and Django who was trying to be expressionless.

Broomhilda went back into the kitchen, being followed by Stephen. Mona started panicking herself. It was obvious he made the connection. She tried to catch King's eyes but he was chatting with Candie about Dusseldorf and the German language.

Mona watched Stephen come out of the kitchen with a stern face.

"That is why it would be quite pleasurable for me to have my wife speak German. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to teach her".

"Calvin I need to talk to you" Stephen said standing between Candie and Mona, who was seated to Candie's right.

"Stephen my boy, the Doctor and I are talking" Candie scolded him.

"I really need to talk to you" Stephen repeated and gave the Doctor a nasty stare. Mona's eyes widened in panic. There was no doubt to it-he knew.

"Well what is it" Candie asked annoyed.

"It's private, it's ... about the dessert" Stephen replied. Mona had to do something because both King and Django looked clueless as to what was going on.

"Well deal with the damn dessert yourself".

Stephen put his hand on Calvin's shoulder. Mona had to act now- do something,anything to prevent Stephen from informing him.

"I really need to talk about something import-" but he couldn't finish his sentence since the offensive noise interrupted him.

Mona started coughing her lungs out, and in the process "accidentally" knocking over her wine glass towards Stephen, "Damn it" Stephen exclaimed as his pants got ruined with the spilled wine.

Mona was coughing like a maniac, turning red in the process, trying to put in words of apology in the middle of coughs. Still coughing, she discretely followed with her eyes Stephen leaving the room to probably change his trousers.

Everyone around the table looked concerned asking her if she was alright- apparently her acting was working. Of course she didn't have to act that much to look like she was in pain. All the wheezing and the gasps for air came naturally to her because of the corset, and the pain on her back was very real. In the middle of coughs she managed to say "I need air" and reached her hand to King.

King guided her to an open window. Concern could be read from his eyes. "Try to calm down and slow down your breathing" he said, everyone at the dinner table were watching them with equal concern. Mona placed her head on King's shoulder that faced the window. Still wheezing and coughing, it looked like the woman was trying to relax her lungs. However, her intention was different. In between a cough she whispered "Stephen knows". She noted how King's body got stiff with her words and that he must've heard her. She coughed again. "Put down payment on fighter". Another cough and a loud gasp for air. "Downplay Broomhilda". She coughed a bit more quietly now and removed her head from where she placed it.

She cleared her throat and coughed a bit more, then cleared her throat again. "I feel much better now" she said as she returned to the table.

"Please accept my apologies, I had this horrible cold in the winter and the cough just seems to linger on". As she finished her sentence Stephen walked in wearing a fresh pair of pants.

"Calvin I still need to-" this time King interrupted him.

"As I was saying Monsieur Candie, Broomhilda is nice and all but we are here for a fighter; and I do not want you to change your mind tomorrow when I ride out of here. For this purpose I propose I pay you thousand dollars in advance, just to strengthen the business bond between us".

Calvin's eyes sparkled with delight. "You do not need to doubt me and my intention to sell the fighter to you Doctor, but it is my personal rule to not turn down money when someone is trying to give it to me" he stated as everyone laughed. "What was it that you wanted Stephen"?

Stephen stared at the Doctor who was sipping on his wine with the most innocent expression on his face.

"Nothing" Stephen said quietly."It's all good".

* * *

After dinner Mona expressed that she still needed some fresh air and went outside to the back garden; if she had to listen one more word of Lara and her interest in crotcheting she was sure she would die from boredom. She was smoking her cigarette in delight when she heard someone behind her.

"Miss Mona no wonder you cough like a coal mine worker, you shouldn't be smoking" Candie approached her. This man made her so uncomfortable, nonetheless she smiled.

"What are we without our vices Monsieur Candie"?

"Indeed" replied Candie as he smiled. "You make quite the pairing with the Doctor.. I can see that he is unabashedly in love with you" this caused Mona's smile to grow wider. "Tell me what was it that made you consider him as an husband"?

Mona thought for a second. "His beard".

Candie burst into laughter. "Really?".

"Yes, I am drawn to impressive beards. Sometimes I walk down the street and see a man with an amazing beard and I am so taken by it-then I realize they are homeless".

Candie laughed uncontrollably. "You are truly something else" he said as his laughter died out. He stopped and looked at Mona, which made her feel like she was being watched by a predator.

"I still don't understand though, what you see in an old man" he said as she gave him a confused look.

"Is it money? Because if it is.." Candie opened his arms and pointed around. Mona's smile disappeared.

"It's getting chilly Monsieur Candie, I think I should go in" she said and turned around, not giving the man a chance to reply.

* * *

King was chatting with the dull lawyer when he watched Mona enter the room, only to be followed by Candie. He studied her with his eyes as she sat down next to Lara, listening and nodding as the Southern woman made small talk. He pondered upon why she had gotten progressively paler during this dinner, then decided that it was time for him to make his move.

"May I steal my wife away for a second Miss Lara" he said as he took Mona's hand and rested it on his arm as she got up. They walked across the room and stood in front of the library. King knew that Candie was looking at them, but he couldn't decide which one of them he was watching.

He took her hands in his. "Was he giving you a hard time" he asked silently.

"Nothing I can't handle".

"He is watching us right now. At the end of my sentence I want you to nod compliantly- like a good wife would do" he replied with a smirk.

Mona gave him an amused stare, then nodded. To her surprise, King grabbed her by the hand and directed her towards Candie.

"Monsieur Candie, I have another proposition for you. As I said I miss hearing German so much, I was wondering if you could sell Broomhilda to me, so she could teach my wife some German".

"Trying to improve your wife? I say she is perfect as she is" Candie said maliciously. The woman looked away turning a little red; if this was any other man she would've already told him off by now.

"There is always room for improvement" King replied. Mona tried to take no offense in that.

"Sure, sure take Hildi. But I must warn you: she's a bit of a runner".

* * *

It was past midnight when the guests announced that they wished to retire. Everyone was wishing goodnight to each other when King realized Mona had already gone upstairs. Chatting with Candie, he climbed up the stairs and bid him a good night. He was about the enter their room when he heard Broomhilda's voice. "Doctor Schultz"?

He turned back the same time Candie did, he was curiously watching the scene. King wondered what he would do if Broomhilda was to say something that would reveal the purpose of their visit.

"The ointment Miss Mona asked for Sir" she said as she handed him a jar and took off. Candie and King watched her disappear. The two men nodded at each other and went into their respective rooms.

King stood in awe when he entered his.

The back of Mona's dress was open and she was trying to undo her corset, heaving and trembling. King shut the door. "Calm down".

"Help me get out of this" she exclaimed silently. It was obvious to the Doctor that she was having some sort of a panic attack. King reached for the strings and found them completely intertwined. She must have tangled them all in panic. "This is quite the mess" he said in apology.

"Just rip it open" she hissed trying to inhale. Unable to understand why she was in such a nervous state, King shook his head and forcefully ripped the corset apart. He stood there stunned with what he saw.

The entire construction of the corset was imprinted on Mona's back as a scar. All the metal hooks and the lining looked to be dug into her skin, leaving behind a trail of open wound. But something else was there. He watched Mona's heaving back and the part of the tattoo that adorned the left side of her waist. Long curved lines of something, perhaps tree branches? Why did she have a tattoo?

"Did Broomhilda give you an ointment" Mona asked, bringing him back to reality. She was breathing calmer now. "Can you put some of it on the scars"?

Anxiety and excitement filled him at the same time as he reached for the jar he left on the table. He took some of the odorless cream in his hands and placed them on her back. "You are a doctor" he said to himself. "She is nothing but a patient who needs treatment". But it felt like his whole being was melting with the heat coming off of her body.

"Thank you for that" Mona said quietly. He removed his hands from her back. "I'll turn around so you can get dressed" King told her.

She dropped her dress and the villainous corset on the floor and grabbed a shirt. She put it on and got in the bed. Laying on her back felt very painful, so she turned on her side.

"You can turn around now" she said.

"I'm really sorry for your back.. I didn't know it would get like that".

"It wasn't your fault" Mona replied. "Would you like me to close my eyes so you can get undressed" she said as she smirked.

King smiled and removed his jacket and his shoes.

"That's quite alright" he said as he sat on the bed and propped his back on the headboard.

"Wasn't I extraordinary" Mona asked.

"Hm"? King looked at her with a confused expression.

"I basically saved the night. I was extraordinary" she replied with a smile.

King chuckled "Yes I give you ten points for being extraordinary and zero for being humble".

She smiled "I can live with that". Her smile turned into a big yawn and she closed her eyes.

"You know you have a cavity"?

She opened her eyes with exhaustion. "I do"?

King laid on his side as well and placed his hand on Mona's chin. "Open".

She complied and King investigated. Her eyelids fell again.

"Are you sleeping with your chin in my hand" King asked in amusement.

"Nah" she mumbled, her eyes still closed. "Yeah, maybe" she admitted.

"Well, we may have to pull out this tooth in the back".

She immediately opened her eyes " But it doesn't hurt" she exclaimed.

He let go of her chin. "I'd be very gentle" he said with a smirk. She returned the smirk and they stared at each other. Their heavy breathing were all that could be heard. The dark of her eyes were bewitching to him, he wanted nothing but to drown in those soft looking lips. He reached towards her, watching her young eyes full of anticipation.

Young. That's what he was not. A strong sense of dread filled him immediately.

He placed his lips on her head and planted a soft kiss. "Goodnight" he said as he turned the other side, leaving a very confused Mona behind.

He shivered inside. The smell of hair lingered around him: Jasmine... He was in big, big trouble.

* * *

**I hope you have enjoyed these two chapters. I found it a bit difficult to write around events that were already written so perfectly, but I tried my best. Do tell me what you think about it.**

**And I want to know the readers' opinions for the upcoming chapters: Smut, or no smut? You decide.**

**Once more thank you so much for following, reading and reviewing.**


	7. The System of Scale and Proportion

"_Basta_" said the sleepy voice.

"I'm afraid we have to go downstairs for breakfast right now" King said coldly. This got him no response.

"Mona"?

Nothing.

"Mona".

Still silence

"MONA"!

"God, just go by yourself! You do not need me to be around you every waking second do you" she asked as she sat up in anger.

They shared a silent moment, staring at each other the way two old enemies would.

"And what should I tell them about the absence of _my wife_"?

"I don't know, I'm sure you'll figure something out", Mona replied with her eyes squinted.

King watched this angry face for a second, then nodded and left the room.

Mona sunk back into the bed and sighed. Somehow this did not feel like a victory. What was wrong with that man? For the past few days Mona felt like they were getting closer. At first she didn't realize that he might have been interested in her, but since they started pretending to be married, the way he talked to her, held her hand, and even looked at her, started making her feel something between them. But then, what the hell was last night? Mona was no little girl, she knew desire, and recognized it when she saw it in a man's eyes. And then he gave her a kiss on the head!

She turned on her side in anger and sighed. The worst part was that she really wanted to kiss him. Anger rose in her again; why was he the one to dictate the course of what were to happen between them? She was infuriated; she hated it when she felt as though she couldn't control her own course.

On the same matter, what the hell was wrong with this Candie guy too? Seemingly gentle, this man acted like a manipulative sociopath would. And the way he made her feel like prey last night… Somehow she got even more furious, she should've told that pompous fool then and there he'd better watch his mouth.

Mona threw the covers off, and got up to get dressed. Well, _she_ was the master of her own path and no man was ever going to get the chance to reject her again, or make her feel helpless. She looked down to the floor. And no way in hell was she putting on that corset again.

* * *

The conversation stopped as Mona walked into the room.

"Good morning; I apologize for my absence".

"Do not worry darling" King addressed her without adverting his eyes from his plate. "I have already explained Monsieur Candie that your coughing fit last night must've worn you down."

"Your outfit is… lovely" Lara said with distaste she couldn't hide. Mona was wearing a skirt like a proper lady would, but tucked inside the skirt was the plain white shirt she wore to bed. She was wearing her dark hair in two thick braids wrapped around her head; like the way her father told him Spanish women did.

"It is everything but Southern" Mona replied with a smile as she sat down to the empty seat next to King.

"So Doctor, you still haven't informed me as to which day our transaction should take place" Candie changed the subject.

"Sometime during the next week" King replied coolly.

"That is very ambiguous isn't it" Candie asked. Clearly he wanted answers when he wanted them.

"It will take my attorney a few days to get here", King said with a smile. "But Monsieur Candie, I'm starting to think that you doubt my intentions" he continued acting a little offended. Mona caught her breath, and could have sworn she heard Django do the same as well. This was a risky thing to say.

"Of course not" Candie replied as he grinned. Although he was smiling, he still looked annoyed, perhaps with the obvious confrontation.

"There is one thing my husband isn't Monsieur Candie" Mona jumped in with a smile. She placed her hand on King's arm, causing him to turn and look at her. "He certainly isn't a tease"!

As everyone laughed at this little inappropriate joke, King forced himself to smile. He looked at the woman smiling innocently and staring back at him. He was utterly irritated with how easily she could throw him off of his track.

"Monday, Monsieur Candie" he said suddenly.

Candie smiled in triumph.

* * *

After the breakfast the men, minus Django, were having coffee and discussing politics when Candie excused himself. He strolled around his mansion, trying to find the dark haired woman.

When he first met Mona he quickly thought that he could persuade a woman like hers into a quick affair. Women were prone to his good looks and status after all. And a woman like that, so recklessly self-indulgent, would be prone to be seduced by him. For these reasons, he was quite surprised to see Mona be offended by how he talked about her husband. He wasn't expecting loyalty as such from a woman that seemed so… occupied with herself. And this intrigued him. Calvin Candie loved puzzles. And enigmatic women: well, they were his weak spot.

"There you are" Candie stated in delight, finding Mona in the reading room.

"Here I am" she mimicked as she closed the book she was taking a look at.

"I must say you look positively stunning today. Who would've thought simple could be so beautiful".

Mona's nostrils flared in annoyance. This man was too much.

"Tell me Monsieur Candie, do you always lust after married woman"?

Candie chuckled in awe of this surprise confrontation. "Not always", he lit up his cigarette. "Only if the woman in question is worth my time".

"That's quite bold".

"I'll take that as a compliment" said Candie smugly.

Mona rolled her eyes. "Yet it certainly wasn't one".

"Well, you are quite bold in return Miss Mona. And that _is_ a compliment" he replied, flashing one of his venomous looking smiles.

"I think we are ready to leave", King's voice filled the room.

They turned to find the Doctor standing by the door, coldly staring at the man shamelessly puffing on his cigarette. If looks could kill Candie would be in pieces right now. Suddenly, Mona felt incredibly guilty for no reason. She lowered her gaze and walked towards the door.

Candie extended his hand as he approached King. "Doctor Schultz, I will see you on Monday".

King nodded and shook his hand rather forcefully. Mona was about to leave the room when Candie grabbed her hand.

"And Miss Mona, perhaps fate will help us meet again" he said with an evil grin as he planted a kiss on her hand. She saw the Doctor shift in anger from the corner of her eyes.

She removed her hand immediately. "_Mister_ Candie" she addressed him as she watched his face go sour. "Thankfully, there is no such thing as fate".

* * *

An hour later, Candieland was way behind them and the four travelers were making their way towards the town. Broomhilda was sitting behind Django on his horse- her arms wrapped tightly around him, conversing about what their future possibly held for them. Since they left that cursed plantation behind, neither one of them ceased smiling.

Behind them however, King and Mona were riding in silence. Mona was thinking about the events of the last night and this morning, but mainly how King reacted to them. She quietly sighed. The fact was that Mona had always been a softhearted person. Not only she assumed the best of people and situations, she also found it incredibly difficult to hold grudges.

She watched how furious King got when he saw the way Candie was talking to her. Regardless of how he refused her last night, Mona thought that he must have had feelings for her. Why else would he get that upset? Certainly, that anger was not an act. She chewed her lip in anxiety. But why did he treat her that way last night? Was it just… shyness?

Mona immediately felt better with the thought of this. That must've been it; he was just really shy. She shrugged and smiled wryly. She did like him, but she knew better than to deal with introverts. They were just… not her kind. She had never been the kind of person that waited around for others to catch up to her. Besides, her future held so much for her. She suddenly felt light; her usual confidence took over her again.

"I think we ought to celebrate tonight", she said cheerfully.

King looked at her in awe. It was incredible to him how quickly this woman shook off bad situations and sour feelings. There was always a nonchalant air about her; which captivated and intimidated him at the same time. But for now, he was just plain relieved. All morning he had been in a dark mood, thinking about what could've been.

"I think that is a brilliant idea".

* * *

Mona was standing by her horse, eyeing the bookstore across the street when King walked out of the hotel.

"I have convinced the keeper to give us rooms, however there are only two left".

"Well one of those rooms are ours" Django said with a smirk. "I need my wife with me tonight". Broomhilda giggled in delight.

King turned to Mona, expecting an answer.

"Fine by me" she shrugged; she wasn't even looking at him. "I'll be back shortly. I have a few errands to run".

* * *

It was around dinnertime when Mona made it back to the hotel. She found her companions dining around the table in the room she was to share with King.

"We thought you left us" Django exclaimed when he saw her walk in.

They must have guessed that the people in the town wouldn't appreciate a mixed-race party eating together and opted out to stay in.

Mona suddenly took out two bottles of very expensive looking champagne and smiled. "And now we celebrate"!

Everyone laughed and cheered as she popped the cork of the bottle and poured it in glasses. She raised her glass and the others followed.

"A quadruple toast" she started. "To Django -For never giving up on love". The man smiled and put his arm around his wife who was looking at him longingly.

"To Broomhilda" Mona continued. "For staying strong… And finally getting to go on that honeymoon she deserves". Everyone smiled and cheered once again.

"To the reputable Doctor" she said as she gave him a proud smile. "For being the mastermind behind this ingenious plan".

"And to me" she concluded. "For finally deciding to leave for Patzcuaro, Mexico tomorrow"!

"Here here" Broomhilda said and clinked her glass to Mona's. The men followed suit quietly. It was impossible for Django to not detect the frustration on his friends face.

"That's wonderful. You are going to Mexico" Broomhilda asked.

Mona took out a book from her bag, clearly new, and opened the page she marked down recently. The cover read _Sharpe's Corresponding Atlas, Comprising Fifty-Four Maps, Constructed Upon A System of Scale And Proportion, From the most Recent Authorities_. King looked at the leather bound book and the champagne bottles she brought back. Where did she find the money the buy these things? Then he realized he never received back the jewelry he gave her.

"Janitzio Island-" she pointed to the map and showed it to Broomhilda and Django "- right in the Patzcuaro Lake, apparently has the best _day of the dead_ celebrations. I met a man down at the hardware store. He told me that they celebrate the lives of their deceased loved ones, and the entire island becomes one giant torch made out of thousands of candles at night".

"Sounds beautiful" Broomhilda said as she smiled. "We are thinking of going North".

Mona stopped chugging champagne to talk "I have friends in Boston. If you need a place to stay or if you want to find a job there, they would definitely help"!

"That would be very useful" Django replied gratefully.

"Mona" Broomhilda turned to her. It made Django happy to see his wife really enjoy this woman's friendship, like the way he did. "Have you ever been married"?

Mona raised her brows in surprise. "No" she replied honestly, and felt King's gaze on her. "I almost did though".

"You never told us that" Django exclaimed.

"Because it isn't the most exciting or interesting story… I thought I could do it, then quickly realized I wouldn't be able to… There was just… still so much for me to see". She shrugged and thought of the day she tried to explain these two men why traveling had become a way of existing to her. They didn't seem to get it then, so they probably wouldn't get it now. She looked away and sipped on her champagne.

"How about you Doctor" Broomhilda asked again.

Mona raised her head and looked at King across the table. He had been so quite all day long, and now he seemed even more to himself.

"Yes, I was once married" the man replied to her surprise.

"Well, you never told me that either" Django said.

"What happened to her", Broomhilda queried.

King sighed. He clearly did not want to have this conversation. "Nothing. It just didn't work out".

An awkward silence followed. Mona realized Broomhilda was about to direct him another question when she jumped in.

"What the hell was wrong with that Lara"?

Django and Broomhilda laughed, distracted. Mona just did not want to make this man feel even more uncomfortable.

"I swear they must have given her a lobotomy and replaced her brain with crochet patterns"

* * *

Two hours later, everyone was full and quite buzzed; Broomhilda announced that it had been a long day.

"And we decided to leave early in the morning tomorrow" Django continued.

"Well I don't get up early in the mornings" Mona replied as she found a piece of paper and scribbled down a name and an address.

"This is my friend in Boston", she said as she gave the paper the Broomhilda. "If you need anything, or just want to make a new friend, find him".

"We will" Broomhilda said as she stood in front of the woman. Mona without an hesitation gave her a huge embrace. "Be careful… and buy guns, at least three" she joked.

Django walked to her and gazed at her friend. The duo, in synch, went for a hug. "Stay out of trouble" Django said as they broke the hug. Mona's eyes were tearing up. "Are you crying" the man asked in disbelief.

Mona quickly wiped away her tears and laughed "No, shut up, you are crying". Django flashed a genuine smile "Send us a postcard… And thank you for entertaining me so much". Mona matched his smile. He truly was going to miss her. He nodded and smiled to her as they left the room. They were going to see the Doctor in the morning, since he had no trouble waking up.

With that, they were left alone. Mona wanted to just get to bed and be gone in the morning. This whole adventure had been one emotional mess for her.

"Could you turn around", she asked as King put out his cigar. She did not want any more complications between them. She was leaving tomorrow anyway.

When the Doctor turned away she unbuttoned her blouse and took out the ointment she had from last night as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Taking off her shirt, and trying to hold it against her chest in case King turned around, she managed to open the lid. She took a handful of the gooey stuff and tried to reach around to apply it on her scars. Writhing and struggling, she was too late to realize that the jar was slipping off the bed.

It noisily dropped on the floor and disappeared. "God! Fu… Damn it" Mona cursed trying to see where it went.

"Could I assist you in anyway"?

She sighed in defeat. "Could you find where the jar went"?

King turned around and quickly glimpsed at the woman with the bare back. Her scars were still there, but they seemed better. And that tattoo on the side of her waist: a jellyfish.

He kneeled down to find the jar under the bed and picked it up. "I can put it on your back again if you wish".

She nodded silently. Once again they were in the same situation. King sat on the edge of the bed as well and placed his hands on her back, trying to ignore the softness of her skin. Mona tried to remind herself that this man was not her match, and what she felt right now was just flesh wanting flesh.

His hands still massaging her back "What does your tattoo mean" he asked in an attempt to break the heavy tension between them.

"It doesn't mean anything. It's just a jellyfish".

King wondered if he ever saw a tattoo on a woman. "How did you get one then"?

"I had a Japanese friend in London. And he gave this to me as a birthday gift".

"Why did you choose a jellyfish"? –And just how intimate were you with this friend- he wanted to ask, but kept quite.

"I don't know. Maybe because it doesn't have a great meaning. Just an ordinary creature in a sea of ordinariness".

"Is that how you feel" he queried.

"Maybe… I don't know, I don't take life… very seriously".

King pondered upon this for a moment. There it was again, that feeling that he was just seeing the tip of the iceberg. Where did this comment come from? Such a dark comment from such a seemingly light person.

"Do you have any tattoos", Mona asked trying to keep the conversation going. His hands were electrifying; she had goose bumps all over her body.

King stopped but kept his hands on her back. "No, I'm an old man".

Mona turned around to face him. His musky smell, whisky and cigar, captivated her. The hell with it- she thought. Flesh wanted flesh.

"I don't think you're old", she said. Their faces were an inch apart from each other. "I think you are smart, and funny, and kind… and handsome".

A strand of her fell on her face. King removed it and tucked it behind her ear.

"You are bewitching", he said as Mona smiled in sick anticipation.

"You have put a spell on me, and now… I can't sleep, or eat, or talk without thinking about you… Tell me what you want".

Mona furrowed her brows and smiled. "What"?

"I don't understand it… I don't understand what you want from me. Is it money"?

Mona's eyes widened in terror and anger as she pulled herself away from him. She quickly turned around and got off of the bed. King quietly watched her button her shirt on.

She reached inside her bag, took out a pouch and placed it on the table. King already knew- the pouch contained the jewelry he had given her. He knew that she wasn't interested in money even before he said the words. He just… hated how she made him feel entirely out of control with his feelings. For this, he sat in silence. He needed to let this happen even if seeing her get away from him made his stomach churn. He was a man on his own, and letting this woman in would only be disaster. For this, he remained silent.

Mona turned around and looked at the man sitting on the bed. Not an iota of guilt was present on his face. Her jaw clenched in fury.

She stared at his ice blue eyes; King felt like her gaze was piercing into his soul.

"I don't know if you are old…" she said as she was about to walk out the door but glared at him one last time "…but your heart is clearly insufficient".

With that, she was out of the room. If she was going to cry, this man was not going to have the privilege to witness it.

* * *

**Now that I leave Tarantino's script behind, I want to make sure that the characters and events are staying believable. Your reviews, in that sense, have been incredibly helpful to me. So I want to thank everyone who took their time to review the last few chapters: you have no idea how insightful they have been. **

**I hope you have enjoyed this single, alas long chapter update. Thank you for reading, following and reviewing.**


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